


angel

by selvish



Series: my heaven [2]
Category: Among Us (Video Game), Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, First Meetings, First Time, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pet Names, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:42:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29986509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selvish/pseuds/selvish
Summary: Dream grins big, one that makes him look like he’s won the lottery. The blush on his face lessens and his eyes light up and he’s so, so fucking beautiful it makes Corpse’s chest hurt. He wants to run from it, remind himself that miraculous boys and their award-winning smiles are too good for agoraphobic gremlins like him. Selfishly, he stays.He gets a kiss for staying, a soft and gentle one that feels fragile. He’s shaking again and he breathes to steady himself. The voice in his head tells him he needs to calm down, but he’s not sure he can do that. Dream whispers against his lips: “I think you’re incredible.” And the voice wins.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Corpse Husband (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: my heaven [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205750
Comments: 16
Kudos: 164





	angel

**Author's Note:**

> u dont HAVE to read the other fic in the series but... it might be nice :3
> 
> ship privately, do not send to ccs/mention fic in donos
> 
> as always, enjoy <3

Arguably the worst part of overthinking something is being hyper-aware of how much you’re overthinking something. Another horrible part of it is knowing if you tell someone about the thing you’re overthinking it will probably just get worse. Both the thing and thinking. So you just keep thinking all of the overthinking thoughts while everyone else acts like your brain isn’t on fire because they don’t  _ know- _

Oh, god, Corpse was going to lose his mind.

This wasn’t the only reason for that, not even the only time he’s lost his mind. This is, however, the first time he’s so completely lost it for a  _ guy _ . Not even just a guy, a guy on the other side of the country who he’s never seen before. A guy who he only vaguely knows through adjacent Twitter fandoms and a few rounds of a murder mystery video game.

He’s done some research recently. There is definitely not a shortage of Dream content on the internet, so he’s pretty much set if all he wants to do is spend hours pathetically listening to Dream talk to his friends while he sits alone at his desk trying to answer emails. Is this how his fans feel? He should probably up his engagement.

The problem is he knows there’s a very simple solution to all of this: talking to Dream. He has his Discord, sees him online pretty much all day every day. If that one time they jerked off together wasn’t a fever dream, the other would probably talk to him pretty easily. At least, maybe he would have two weeks ago. He hasn’t spoken with Dream since then. When they jerked off. Together.

In his defense, Dream hasn’t messaged him either, but that’s what he’s overthinking.

Not only is Dream currently online, but he’s listening to Spotify, which means he’s not in a call with someone else. Corpse stares at the bright green circle next to his icon, tries to bore a hole in his screen so he has an excuse not to message him. He hovers over it, and sees Dream’s current listening pop up.

_ E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE! - CORPSE _

He kind of just stares at it for a second, watching the text roll by twice before taking a deep breath. Looking up to the ceiling, he gives one point to the universe for it’s timing. Dropping his finger on his mouse, he clicks open their DMs window.

_ why are you listening to a recording of my voice on spotify when you could be listening to it in real time? _

**CORPSE**

Adrenaline rushes through his veins and he pulls his hands off of the keyboard after hitting send. He groans as the regret sinks in. That was weird, right?

Dream is typing back, and the notification makes Corpse groan again. He hides his face in one of his hands as he hears the message come in. Taking another deep breath, he moves his hand over one eye.

_ maybe I wanted you to have the streams :) it’s a good song _

**Dream**

He’s still typing, but Corpse’s heart rate goes down a little at the casual air of the response. He still likes him, fucking somehow.

_ plus if I called you every time I wanted to hear your voice _

_ you’d probably get pretty sick of me :) _

**Dream**

Without thinking, he moves the cursor to the voice call button, almost slipping and hitting video by accident. Once that brief heart attack passes, he watches the call connect. The chat turns green, and he can hear tapping noises in his headphones.

“ _ Yeeees? _ ” Dream’s voice comes in a little singsongy, clipping halfway through the word. It’s so stupid it makes Corpse laugh instantly, a cluster of giggles falling out.

Dream is charming. It’s disgusting at times, and he would have trouble saying it out loud, but in the safety of his head it’s undeniable. He has this way of saying things so point blank yet silly it makes Corpse feel like he could get away with telling him anything. Feeling a little guilty, he comes to terms with the fact that he really should have reached out sooner.

“I… I did that kind of impulsively. I don’t really have anything to say.” Corpse says after a questionable amount of silence.

“That’s fine.” Dream says, voice light and easy. “You don’t have to say anything. Did you just want to hang out?”

“Um,” Yes. Yes he does want to hang out with Dream. “Yeah, that would be cool.”

“Cool. Very cool.”

It’s quiet for a second, but then more tapping comes over the line. Corpse is sitting completely still, breathing in and out, not saying anything. He gets a notification on Discord and looks down to see a link to a listening party from Dream. Clicking it, he watches it connect to his Spotify. Thankfully Dream isn’t still listening to his own music, it’s just a regular playlist. He smiles as the music starts, it’s just palatable pop music, just a little more alternative than top 40. Very on brand for Dream.

As the music fills the silence, Corpse is able to get back to work. He opens his email and starts sorting through his inbox. There’s music stuff, YouTube stuff, and everything in between jammed in there and he’s been meaning to organize for a bit. It’s easy to get lost in it, moving stuff around and typing out replies while Dream hums in the call alongside the song playing.

Dream clears his throat at one point, and Corpse startles a little. He looks over to the clock in the bottom right corner of his screen and sees an hour has passed. That’s surprising.

“Sorry if I’m being boring. You can hang up if you want.” Corpse says, feeling his shoulders curl a little in insecurity.

“No, no.” Dream replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice. He smiles a lot, it’s a nice contrast to Corpse’s resting bitch face and ever-present monotone, “I was just gonna say I like this. Sharing space with you, like not in a big deal way. I like you, I guess. If that’s cool.”

How does he do that? Just say things, and not only say them but  _ mean _ them. Corpse can’t even try to overthink himself into a stupor that Dream hates him, because the man himself shoots it down before he has a chance. He stares at the call counter, again, as always, watching the numbers rise as he doesn’t say anything. Dream laughs a little nervously.

“You used to drive up the East Coast, right? Like in your song?”

“Uh, yeah. 20 hours was not an exaggeration.” He seems off put by the change in subject, but goes along with it. He’s probably embarrassed, and thinks Corpse is uncomfortable with what he said. It’s quite the opposite. 

“Would you do that again? Across the South. Come see me in California, I mean.”

He can hear Dream breathe in, practically feels the air leave his own lungs and get sucked up by the other; through the computer screen, through miles and miles of roads and deserts.

“Yeah” Dream breathes out, and Corpse is smiling before he finishes the word. “I would probably take a flight, since it’s faster, but yeah. I would.”

\--

He does.

It’s kind of embarrassing how quickly they organize the trip. Have they properly talked about how they feel? No. Have they spoken in private enough times to warrant literally taking a cross-country flight to hang out? Also no. Fire signs have no time for waiting around.

They chose a public place for the initial meet up. Corpse isn’t big on crowds, so Dream offered to get an Uber from the airport and find the other man at the park by his apartment. It’s a less anxiety-inducing middleground than making a first impression completely isolated from anyone else, or surrounded by curious eyes. Plus, it’s Southern California, so it’s always a nice day out.

Corpse is sitting on a bench, snapping a picture of the tree he’s near and sending it to Dream. The sun is warm, soaking into his black hair and making him feel content and comforted. He’s still a nervous wreck, nonstop twitching and looking around at every sound, but the sunshine eases it just a little.

His clothes are also black, so he’s easy to spot in the vibrant park. Kids and their parents walk by him, not paying him any mind. He watches everyone mill about as his leg bounces. Dream had told him what he was wearing, and he was tall, so Corpse would probably see him easily.

Sure enough, a figure is on his right, looming over the bench he’s sitting on. He keeps his gaze forward, but can feel a smile creeping over his face as the other man sits down. Corpse turns to see the side of Dream’s face.

His dirty blonde hair is golden in the light, curling down his neck and pushed out of his face with a nervous hand. Dream is still looking straight ahead, but his perfectly lined up teeth are grinning cheekily as Corpse takes him in. Green eyes slide over, meeting Corpse’s muddy brown gaze before he turns his head to blind him. He imagines this is how the moon would feel if it ever met the sun, got to be close enough to it to feel it’s rays fan over every pale, broken crater.

“Hi.” Dream says, his eyes running frantically over all of Corpse’s features, like he doesn’t have enough time to look at all of it. Corpse is laughing before he can realize it, and he goes to cover his mouth when Dream reaches out. He stops short of touching him, both of their hands hanging lamely in between each other. Not touching, because they haven’t touched yet, and the first one needs to matter.

“Hey.”

“You look good.” The blonde continues, his eyes have decided to rest on one spot: Corpse’s neck. He has two chains hanging there, placed haphazardly over each other and shining in the sunlight. His skin looks sickly white, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows; ever insecure. The impulse to disagree pops up, which is weird, because normally he has no problem being told he’s hot.

“Thanks.” Corpse replies. One of his fingers, adorned with a silver ring, reaches out a couple inches. It meets the back of Dream’s hand and rests there, just barely touching. Dream stops looking at his neck to look at the point of contact instead, looking focussed. “You do too.”

Dream blinks, and pulls away to stand and adjust the backpack on his shoulder. To cover up the hurt, Corpse raises his eyebrows and watches him get up. He looks at him curiously for a second before standing as well, taking in the five inches of height between them. Dream takes a deep breath as he processes it, the air fills his chest and Corpse can see it happen. There's tan skin to be appreciated underneath the tank top hanging loosely over his shoulders. He wants to feel it, too.

“Your apartment?” He asks, ducking his head so blonde hair covers his eyes. Thankfully he’s smiling, but this is a sly one that makes the hair on the back of Corpse’s neck stand up.

“Good idea.”

One, two, three word sentences. Such quick communication that leads no room for misunderstanding. For a moment, Corpse wonders if his I.Q. is dropping, approaching vegetable range faster than he can stop himself. He pushes it aside and starts walking, listening to Dream jog to catch up after he stands by the bench just watching him leave for a second.

“I wasn’t looking at your ass, I swear.” He says after he gets to Corpse’s side, matching his steps as they get to the sidewalk.

Corpse laughs again, his shoulders shaking as he tries to hold it in. This is so ridiculous. “This is so ridiculous.”

Dream seems to agree, and he ducks down a little to nudge their shoulders together as they walk. It makes Corpse stumble a little, and he turns to look at him with a playful glare.

“I’m just glad I’m not the nervous one this time. You talked a big game, yet you can barely look me in the eye.” Dream teases, pushing his buttons like he wants Corpse to argue.

“We’re in public, Dream, did you expect me to jump your bones 50ft from a playground?” He’s relaxing the more they walk, and he actually looks and makes eye contact. This time Dream looks away, chuckling and watching his feet.

“Say my name again.” He whispers, and this time Corpse has the confidence to push at his arm, making the other step back. “Hey!”

“Behave.”

“Yes, sir.”

Corpse whips his head quickly and bugs his eyes out at Dream, who’s holding in a coy smirk. What a little shit. “Can you  _ please _ keep it in your pants until we get to my apartment?” The door to his building is in sight, and he keeps from sighing in relief.

“And when we get to your apartment you’re saying I can take my pants o-”

“ _ Dream. _ ”

“Alright, alright. Got it.” Dream makes a show of zipping his lips and throwing away the key, staying quiet until Corpse and him arrive at the door and the shorter man can unlock the door. They go through the mailroom to his door, and once they’re inside Dream drops his bag on the floor and starts taking off his shoes.

“Mi casa es su casa.” Corpse says as he bends over to untie his boots.

His hands are trembling as usual, and he scoffs as he messes up getting the knot undone. To his surprise, Dream kicks his shoes off the rest of the way and gets down on his knees. He pushes Corpse’s hands away and unties them himself, quickly and efficiently. Afterwards he looks up at Corpse with his eyebrows raised. 

Dream looks at him expectantly, his green eyes vibrant in the dull apartment. One of Corpse’s hands, without his permission, moves to rest on top of Dream’s head. The blonde closes his eyes and leans into the touch, so he spreads his fingers and digs them into the locks to scratch lightly. Dream is practically purring, and he wraps his own hand around Corpse’s calf before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his clothed knee.

“I’m glad I’m here.” He says quietly, keeping his eyes resting shut. It makes all of the busyness calm in Corpse’s head. His chest untightens for the first time in a while, and he takes a deep breath.

“I’m glad you’re here too.” Corpse replies. He sits down and pulls off his shoes, tossing them to the side lazily. Dream crawls into his space and kisses him without hesitation, because now that they're inside he doesn't have to stop himself.

Outside is a never ending bustle of people, places, and things. In Corpse’s office is a computer full of expectations and desires of people he’s never met. Here, in the foyer on the floor, are just two people who can kiss and touch for the next few hours. They could do anything, or nothing, it doesn’t matter.

Dream’s lips are soft, careful, and inquisitive. Corpse’s are chapped and hungry, like he’s waited for permission to be able to take. And take he does, leaning in and grabbing Dream’s face like it’s a lifeline. He licks into his mouth and takes him over from the inside, painting with his tongue and claiming his taste; tainting it with his own.

His hands aren’t shaking anymore, they’re sure as one curls into the hair at the back of Dream’s head, the other holding the side of his neck to feel his pulse. In his head he counts the beats as his heart rate picks up, bites his lower lip to feel the other’s heart skip. The control is dizzying, the reactions Dream gives him... Intoxicating.

“Corpse…” Dream murmurs against his lips after Corpse bites him again. He’s pulled away just barely, leaning back into the hand on his head. When Corpse opens his eyes he gasps at what he sees: Dream wide open, eyelids heavy and mouth panting with blood on his bottom lip. He looks like a debauched angel.

“What do you want, baby?” He asks carefully, stroking his thumb over Dream’s Adam’s apple, watching it bob as he swallows. Dream’s eyes are unfocussed and travelling randomly around his face, like he’s forgotten how to comprehend English.

“Whatever you want. Please. Anything”

It makes heat coil in Corpse’s stomach, the promise that he can have Dream anyway he wants. He’s the only one who can get him like this, he’s sure of it. Corpse can shed all of the layers of the internet’s cocksure and confident dream boy and reduce him to nothing but a wanting thing.

“I want you.” Corpse says with another kiss, hard but without opening his mouth. He can feel the vibration of Dream’s responding hum on his lips, and he wants to pull the taller boy over him and make him make beautiful sounds right here by the front door, but he knows they deserve better. “Come to my room, angel, I’ll treat you right.”

Dream smiles at him, closed mouth and content, making Corpse chuckle as he stands up. He reaches his hand down to help Dream off the floor, and they both sway a little as they straighten. Looking down at him, Dream looks like he’s thinking dangerous things. He’s caught on a hook, whipped, and Corpse feels it wash over him. It makes him dizzy.

They walk calmly towards Corpse’s bedroom, their socked feet padding unhurried across the hardwood floor. It’s not quick and dirty like their call had been, it feels like time is frozen and they have as long as they want. Maybe it is and maybe they do, Corpse doesn’t care.

His room is relatively plain, blackout curtains hung over the windows and coal bed sheets neatly out of place from this morning. Dream stands in the doorway and looks around, smiling at the few posters and trinkets on the wall. While Corpse sits down on the bed and watches him carefully, Dream pokes his head into the closet.

“Where’s the secret entrance to the sex dungeon?” He asks, keeping his head in the closet like there’s something hidden there.

“You’ll see my toys when I want you to. Get over here.” Corpse says, impatient but still laughing. When Dream turns around his face is a little flushed, like his mind is taking the word  _ toys _ and running wild.

Dream walks over to the bed, situating his tall self between Corpse’s knees. He’s looking down at him with that blown open look again, like he doesn’t have any secrets. It’s intimidating as it is beautiful, because Corpse has many, many secrets. Big, juicy ones that he’s tempted to tell when Dream looks at him like this.

Hooking a finger under Dream’s collar, Corpse pulls him down so their heads are level. Dream holds his gaze and crawls onto the bed, trapping Corpse beneath him. They’re just looking at each other, and Corpse is increasingly aware of the fact this is still the first time he’s seen the other man’s face. His broad nose, square jaw, a random assortment of freckles placed along his cheeks. There’s one in particular, just Southwest of his left eye, that Corpse presses a kiss to. Right above his cheekbone. That one is his favourite.

“What are you thinking about?” Dream asks softly, running his fingers through Corpse’s hair. He pushes his bangs back and Corpse wants to hide, so he ducks his head down a little. Dream scrunches his face and follows him, pressing a teasing bite to his jaw. “Hey. Look at me.”

“Nothing. Just thinking.” Corpse lies. Dream doesn’t believe him, so he bites him again before kissing the same spot, it makes Corpse sigh softly. His eyes shut, and he lays his head back on the sheets so Dream can kiss his neck.

“You think too much.” Dream presses open mouth kisses along his neck, sucking here and there lightly. It won’t leave marks, and Corpse hates that. He wants to see proof that Dream wants him, wants to be able to look in the mirror days after Dream is gone and press down on a memory that he can feel.

“You talk too much.” He counters, and Dream makes a face like he’s unimpressed. It makes both of them laugh. “You can leave marks, you know. No one ever sees me except delivery drivers.”

Dream hums and puts his head back down, immediately pulling skin into his mouth with a suck, worrying it between his teeth harshly enough to make Corpse hiss. He definitely knows how to take a hint.

“Like that?” Dream asks coyly, barely letting Corpse breathe before doing it again in another spot, right where his ear meets his jaw. Corpse’s vision gets blurry for a second and he bucks his hips up against nothing.

“Yeah,  _ fuck _ , baby. Just like that.”

The blonde is chuckling to himself as he continues. He’ll leave a dark mark and then pepper sweet kisses around it, working in an uneven pattern that Corpse can’t hope to anticipate. His pants are getting tighter as his cock strains against his skinny jeans, and he feels that clawing hungry start to pull at his stomach.

He flips them over so he’s on top, catching Dream by surprise. Without giving him a chance to recover from the shock, Corpse grinds their crotches together into the bed, watching with rapt attention as Dream’s head flies back with a moan. Keeping a straight face, Corpse commits it to memory. He can feel how hard the other is beneath him, and it makes him feel good that they’re both into this, even though Corpse has barely touched him.

“ _ Please _ fuck me. Holy shit.” Dream says, sounding frustrated already.

“Such good manners, kitten, thank you for asking.” Corpse replies, the tease in his voice rushing straight to Dream’s gut. “I do have to set a rule, though, ok?”

Dream nods quickly, trying to sit up to look up at him but getting pushed back down by his shoulder. Corpse hovers over him, grinding down again and taking in the way the other man just  _ crumbles _ at the pressure.

“You gotta be  _ loud _ for me, okay? I want you to beg. I wanna hear every sound your pretty little mouth can make, angel.” His voice is that deep and scratchy pitch that he saves for moments just like this, and he thrives off of the way Dream looks like he’s desperate for him to keep talking. “And…” He trails off to see Dream try to pay attention, his hand that’s not on his shoulder pulling his hips off the bed and holding their crotches together through layers of fabric. When he talks, he can feel Dream twitch against him. “When I fuck you so hard you can’t think, I want you to scratch the shit out of my back. I want you to be  _ rough _ , Dream.”

Looking a little like he might pass out, Dream nods again. When Corpse doesn’t move their hips away, Dream swallows heavily and replies with a shaky voice. “Yes. Yes, I can do that. Oh my  _ god _ .”

“Good boy. My little angel, so good at listening.”

Corpse finally drops Dream’s hips back against the bed, and the blonde gulps in air like he hasn’t been breathing for a while. His head is spinning a few feet above his body, and Corpse takes him being useless as a chance to pull his pants off. That snaps him back into himself, and he sits up to pull off his shirt. He scoots back and sits pretty in just his boxers, eyeing Corpse with his shoulders back in perfect posture.

“Shit, Dream. You look good like this. So obedient for me.” Corpse is feeling a little breathless himself, lost in the way Dream is waiting for him with a soft smile. The blonde looks away to stare at the wall, his hands curling in the sheets.

“Can you take your shirt off?” Dream asks the wall, eyes darting back and forth to peek at Corpse like he’s bashful. The faux-innocence should be ridiculous, but it makes Corpse want to ruin him even more. He’s playing right into his fantasies, knowing exactly what to say to make him crazy.

Corpse gets off the bed to undress, watching a blush build up on Dream’s cheeks. He’s back to not looking at him, but the shy smile and flushed face gives away that he can see enough. Corpse pulls his pants off, underwear too, and Dream gulps.

“You don’t wanna look at me?” Corpse presses, wrapping a hand around himself and jerking off slowly. He’s observing the way Dream’s hands are getting more restless in the sheets. He shifts onto his knees and Corpse can see the way his cock is hard and leaning away from his body from within his boxers. Corpse tugs on himself again and tilts his head in question.

“I do. I do really bad, I just-” He turns and inhales sharply as he sees Corpse’s body for the first time. Dream tries to take in all of it, but his eyes go straight to the hand jerking off his dick lazilly. He licks his lips without thinking, then blushes darker when Corpse laughs cruelly.

“What do you want, angel? You look like you have something to say.”

“I want your cock inside of me.” Dream blurts out, sitting up a little bit on his knees and keening in his own eagerness. He can’t sit still, it’s like there’s something pulling him towards Corpse. He needs to be touched so bad it’s like he’s gonna die. Corpse gives in, getting back on the bed and leaning over Dream.

Their height difference isn’t as evident when they’re both on their knees, but it’s still impressive that Corpse can loom over the other like this. He can make himself big, take up space mentally that translates to the physical as well. Dream is entranced by it, and has never felt so overwhelmed by another person’s presence before. He wants to feel small.

“You’ll get it, baby. You just have to be patient.” Corpse pushes Dream down so his head is on his pillows, and the smell of the older man is all around him in the sheets.

“Yes, sir.”

The word makes Corpse’s eyes widen for a moment, but they darken quickly as he leans down to kiss Dream again. He’s pliant beneath him, mouth easily taking every kiss he’s offered. Corpse licks at his lips until they open, and gets lost in the way Dream’s mouth moves against his. He tastes good, feels good; he’s perfect.

“You’re perfect.” Corpse lets slip, inhaling at his own confession. Dream pulls away and looks up at him, lust-driven haze clear from his eyes for the moment.

“Do you mean that?” 

It’s surprising that Dream could be insecure like him, so out of character it makes Corpse stumble over his words. He’s caught between two options: the flirty banter he normally goes for on stream, or lying and pushing away the feelings so he can focus on sex. Without giving himself time to second guess, he goes with a third option, one he’s never tried:

“I do. I think you’re perfect, Dream.”

Dream grins big, one that makes him look like he’s won the lottery. The blush on his face lessens and his eyes light up and he’s so, so fucking beautiful it makes Corpse’s chest hurt. He wants to run from it, remind himself that miraculous boys and their award-winning smiles are too good for agoraphobic gremlins like him. Selfishly, he stays.

He gets a kiss for staying, a soft and gentle one that feels fragile. He’s shaking again and he breathes to steady himself. The voice in his head tells him he needs to calm down, but he’s not sure he can do that. Dream whispers against his lips: “I think you’re incredible.” And the voice wins.

Corpse reaches underneath the pillows and pulls out a bottle of lube. He’s sure Dream wants to make a stupid comment about it, but thankfully he keeps that to himself. With one more kiss, Corpse pulls away and moves himself down to sit between Dream’s thighs. He leans down and presses a kiss to his knee, a thank you for Dream’s earlier kiss that started all of this. Dream smiles at him like he remembers.

The final piece of clothing, Dream’s boxers, are finally removed. Corpse throws them across the room in a dramatic way that makes both of them giggle. Dream makes to kick him in the face for ruining the mood, but Corpse grabs his ankle and pretends to bite it. He places the foot over his shoulder and slicks up three fingers. Dream watches him hungrily, practically vibrating as Corpse warms the liquid up in front of him.

One finger descends and Dream tilts his hips. It enters his hole slowly, making Dream exhale at the same time Corpse moans at the tight heat he finds. His finger slips into the second knuckle, and he barely has to try to pump it in and out. “Did you-?”

“Yeah. Last night.” Dream answers with his head back, looking up at the ceiling and grinding his hips back onto the finger. “Couldn’t wait. I couldn’t stop thinking about this; about you.”

“Angel… You should have called me.” Corpse tuts while adding a second finger. It’s swallowed into the heat quickly, and he thrusts both fingers in slightly curled. The knowledge that Dream fingered himself just the night before letting him come on a little stronger. He leans the top of his body over the blonde, kissing him to distract himself from the third finger entering his hole.

His fingers curve again, grazing Dream’s insides and searching for the spot that will make his breath catch. It’s obvious when he finds it, Dream whining into his mouth. The noise is so sweet, it makes Corpse rub against the nerves again to hear more. 

Dream moans as Corpse pets his prostate with abandon, his sounds being swallowed by starved kisses.

“Fuck.  _ Fuck, Corpse. _ You gotta-” Dream whines, his brain turning to mush at the stimulation. At the same time he tries to pull his body away and grind down on the fingers more, his cock an angry red against his stomach. Precum drools out of it and gathers in his belly button. “Lay off or I- I’m gonna-”

“Ah, ah…” Corpse says sweetly, moving his fingers to pump in and out away from his prostate. Dream drops his sweaty head to his shoulder, panting and groaning as the pleasure goes back to something manageable. “Not so fast, baby. I’m not done with you, yet.”

Dream’s arms hang limply at his side, he doesn’t even have the energy to turn them into fists. He’s pliant and would probably let Corpse do anything to him right now. Out of his mind with pleasure as three fingers dig into him.

“Corpse, please. Can I- can I have your cock inside me now?” His voice sounds wrecked and weary, all of the confidence and poise fucked out of him.

“Of course, babe. Thank you for asking so nicely.”

Nodding, Dream opens his bleary eyes to look at Corpse as he pulls his fingers out. Corpse adds more lube to his hand and strokes himself, hissing at the feeling of his own hand and harsh grip. Dream sits up on his elbows, staring at his cock and swallowing the spit that floods his mouth.

Corpse lines himself up, pulling Dream’s other leg onto his other shoulder. He leans in, stretching the taller man until he whines. Pushing in, he moans at the feeling of warm heat sucking in his cock.

“ _ Fuck, _ angel, you feel so good.” He sheaths himself completely, feeling his cock twitch against Dream’s fluttering walls. It’s too good, he needs to take a deep breath.

Dream whines after a few seconds, trying to grind his hips down. “It’s so big. I’m so full.” He grabs at Corpse’s face to kiss him again. “Fuck me. I need it.”

“You remember what I told you?” Corpse asks gently, pulling all the way out and slamming back in hard enough to make Dream shout. He stills again, waiting until Dream processes the question. The blonde nods and moves his hands to around Corpse’s back, and on the next thrust he digs his nails in and scratches down his back.

His back tingles as the scratches break skin, and Corpse starts up a rhythm that makes Dream grab at his back desperately. His shoulders, his spine, it’s all covered in long cuts from Dream’s nails. Corpse pants as he feels a drip of blood travel down and land on the bed sheets, mixing with sweat.

The pace is quick, but still deep. His cock pounds inside of Dream mercilessly, driving him up the bed until he wraps his arms around Corpse’s neck and holds himself up to kiss him. It’s not so much a kiss as it is sharing breathing. It makes both of them lightheaded.

Corpse adjusts himself, finding Dream’s prostate again and hitting it with every other thrust. The noises Dream makes are like music, so loud and shameless it’s no question if he’s enjoying it. He whines, moans, and shakes like a leaf as Corpse drives into him.

“Please, please,  _ please. _ I’m close. Touch me, please.” He begs, tears filling his eyes and slipping down his cheeks as the pressure builds in his stomach.

“Pretty angel, do you want to cum for me?” Corpse asks as his hand lands on Dream’s cock. He gathers some of the precum and extra lube to jerk him off, and it’s so slippery and messy it makes his thrusts falter for a second. Dream doesn’t seem to notice, just keeps babbling as he chases his orgasm. “Baby, you need to ask.”

“Fuck, Corpse. Can I cum? Please, sir, I need to.”

“Yes you can. Thank you, baby.” He rubs his fingers around the head of his cock as he tugs, watching Dream’s face tense and relax alongside the rest of his body as his orgasm hits him like a truck. Once again, all Corpse can think is how beautiful he is. With that face burned into his mind’s eye, and Dream’s spent cock drooling against his stomach, he speeds up his thrusts and cums inside of the other.

“Yes, yes…” Dream says sleepily, feeling the cum fill him up. “Thank you, Corpse, fuck.”

Corpse chuckles as he gives a couple more shallow thrusts just to watch Dream wince at the overstimulation. He pulls out, and looks down to watch cum seep out of Dream’s hole. His hand, still adorned with rings, dips down and runs over it. The cool metal makes Dream jump, but he relaxes into the touch as his hole flutters.

“Good boy.” Corpse purrs.

Dream smiles dumbly, eyes finally opening to look at Corpse and wink. Corpse scoffs and hits his leg before getting up to get a towel from his bathroom. When he comes back, Dream is looking at the stuff on his nightstand with a pleased expression on his face.

“You read?” He asks, pointing to the three books stacked neatly on the table.

“Yes, I  _ am _ literate. Believe it or not.” Corpse teases, climbing onto the bed and cleaning Dream off gently with a hand towel. Dream moves whichever way Corpse adjusts him, but looks at him with a funny expression.

“I mean like, books, for fun. That’s cool. Not a lot of 20-somethings do that kind of thing.”

Corpse smiles at him and tosses the soiled towel onto the floor by the doorway. After that, he’s not exactly sure what he should do. He hovers at the end of the bed until Dream looks at him quizzically. When Corpse still doesn’t move, Dream rolls his eyes and opens his arms to him.

“Are we cuddling?” Corpse asks, wary but smiling.

“Of course we’re cuddling. Get in here.” Dream says matter-of-factly.

There’s no room for him to disagree, so Corpse crawls over and tucks himself against Dream’s chest. He signs as he’s pulled close, and can feel the post-sex sleepiness ease into his bones. Dream is warm and the grip around his waist is strong and comforting. Normally he isn’t one to be coddled, especially after sex, but this feels too good.

“Wanna nap?” He asks after a minute, half-asleep already.

Dream doesn’t say anything back, just breathes out of his nose and nods into Corpse’s hair. He takes that as a yes, and lets himself drift off.

**Author's Note:**

> ok this... i can explain... it got away from me a little LMAO. i havent been mushy gushy in a bit so this is that.
> 
> remember to kudos/comment if u enjoyed! it makes me happy :)
> 
> my twitter is @_selvish if ud like to watch me talk to myself about fic


End file.
